Entling
by Thalia Weaver
Summary: This is a story using some neglected- and beautiful- parts of the canon. The child of a strange union must fulfill her destiny and make a terrible choice. (Erg. I stink at summaries...)
1. Prologue: Dreams

Disclaimer: I do not own anything at all, except Entling. Yeah. Tolkien the mighty owns all.  
  
Dude! Whoa.  
  
A/N: I wanted to do a story using neglected, though still beautiful, story elements. So here it is,  
  
folks- the Valar and Ents, mixed up into one story. Feel free to flame if it offends, they amuse  
  
me intensely. I appreciate CC, but I appreciate compliments even more ; ). Be nice, or not,  
  
depending on what you feel like today.  
  
  
  
PROLOGUE: Dreams  
  
I slept, and dreamed; and in my dream I walked, far leagues, even for an Ent. My feet carried me past forests of elm and oak, rowan and ash. In the distance I saw a great white light; and it seemed that a voice called to me.  
  
_Bregalad, Bregalad._  
  
I was not frightened, though I did not know who spoke. From the light walked a tall woman of beauty surpassing all that I had seen, though my years were many. Her form was that of a human, but she was not only human: it seemed that all the fair things, in all the trees and flowers and growing things I had ever seen were held within her… she flickered, holding beauty like a beacon of light. Around her there was the smell of flowers growing. 

She came and walked with me in my dream, and the moon shone; we walked many miles, and my heart was glad of the company. We reached a silent grove, and together we lay under the moonlight, and my heart was glad.  
  
I woke in the light of the morning and knew that it had been but a dream; but my heart could not forget it. _Yavanna_, the wind whispered to me. _Yavanna_.  
  
After many days I dreamed again; the woman- Yavanna- came to me, and we embraced.  
  
Smiling, she held out a small child- ours. I picked her up gently, careful not to harm her with my gnarled hands. She was beautiful as her mother, hair brown with golden lights and hazel eyes shining with the lights of two captured stars.  
  
And I knew that it had been no dream...  
  
* * *  
  
Part II: Yavanna  
  
I hold the baby- my child- in my arms. She sleeps peacefully, her tiny chest rising and falling. She gurgles a little, and though I have spent long years in the wonder of Valinor, I know that this is the truest beauty I have ever seen.  
  
I do not know why I chose this Ent to sire my babe; perhaps it was the loneliness I felt in his dreams, the ache that drove him to walk so far whilst he was asleep. Perhaps it was the silver of the moonlight. It does not matter. Now she is here, alive--alive as a seedling, a tree, a plant, yet different somehow. She has taken a part of my heart and welded it to her own…  
  
I know that she cannot live with me in Valinor, much as I desire it. She must choose her own path, and something tells me that there is yet something for her in Middle-Earth.  
  
I think of the Ents and the pain of their loss, the separation from the Entwives that left for different fields. Perhaps-- perhaps that is her destiny. To bring hope to Middle-Earth even now that the Elves have left, to bring a beauty back that was lost long ago…  
  
I will call her Entling. Entling for the hope and the burden she will bear, Entling for the chance of return.  
  
I will wait for the time that I can call her to me, and have my heart whole again in Valinor. 


	2. Chapter One: Earthquakes And Thrumming

Disclaimer: Tolkien's---not mine, dammit.

Chapter One

I woke abruptly. Something felt wrong. The air was sticky and hot, sweating in tiny condensed warm drops that formed on the hard stone floor of my cottage. I'd tried to coax a few plants to come and grow inside the small stone house, but it was too hard, and they had died, to my guilty grief.

The earth that had stood so docilely still for as long as I could remember was moving in heaving, bucking waves like a mad horse. I cautiously put a foot out, stood, and promptly fell as the ground pitched again. An odd, buzzing thrum began somewhere below my ribs, pressing me hard. I stood up. The buzz grew stronger. I stumbled forward, and it lessened. I kept walking, out of my home and past the small, rocky patch of dirt where the precious plants that had supported me and kept me fed for years struggled along. 

The thrumming began again. I started to run towards the small river I got my water from. Years of farming rocky, stubborn land stood me in good stead as I ran. The thick air choked me and my breath came in ragged gasps. I tried to stop running, but the earth bucked and the thrumming persisted, ramming me forward painfully. Desperately I ran on and on, left, right, left, one foot seeming to take an eternity to plant itself in front of the other. My throat became sore and each breath came slowly, painfully, but I kept running. The ground rolled sickly, like a dog, a stormy sea of rocky dirt and tough brown weed. I could not run much longer, my lungs raw and legs sore. The ground heaved again, stronger, and I fell. This time, I did not have the strength to rise. The ground jerked, rolling, boiling, twisting around me, carrying me with it. With all my heart I wished to be in a place where the ground lay still, and where there were trees, many trees. The world spun, and engulfed me in blackness.


	3. Chapter Two: TreeTalk, Ents, and Sleep

Disclaimer: If you are colossally stupid enough to believe that I own the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien, or that I am he, you either have serious problems or I'm a better writer than I think I am. Either way, you're wrong.

Chapter Two—Tree-Talk, Ents, And Sleep

I awoke, head pounding and stomach heaving. The ground had stilled, but it felt—strange. I opened my eyes. I was in a grove of trees, the like of which I had never seen before, unlike entirely to the small, stunted ones of my home...this wasn't my home. One glance at the soft light filtering within the tall, proud, _green_ trees convinced me of that. With an effort I stood, steeling myself against the wave of nausea that swept over me. I took a deep breath of air-air that felt alive, and green, and smelled like the plants in my garden. 

I fingered the green stone around my neck. My neighbor, who had lived in a cottage nearby before he had left, had given it to me. He had been the only parent I'd ever known. I didn't even know my parents. He had taught me to read and write, though all I had wanted was to go outside and tend my garden and talk to the plants. When he left, he'd given me the stone. It glowed faintly even in the strongest sunlight, and smelled _green, _like this forest.

_Go in peace, little Entling, _he had said as he had left. Entling. It was the only name I had ever known, a strange one, which brought to mind trees old and young, and weathered branches. I reached out and touched one of the tall trees. It felt warm and smooth to my touch, old and weathered and strong, but not tired, the way the trees felt at home.

_You are so tall_, I told it. I could speak to the plants, though not with my mouth or in the tongue I used to speak to humans. They listened and—sometimes, only sometimes,--spoke back, with voices like wind through the leaves. At home the trees spoke rarely, preoccupied with the dangerous, difficult business of growing, surviving in the tough, rocky soil of home, and their voices were harsh and bitter (though with me they tried to be gentle), like a storm raging through barren branches. I loved them for their courage, and toughness, and the gruff gentleness they showed me when they tenderly stroked my hair after I had climbed their branches, as I had done so often as a child. This tree had a voice like a gentle whistling wind through green leaves.

_And you so young, _it answered softly, and yet in a voice that echoed with age and solidity. _Yet you speak with a tree-voice as the people of the Laurelindólan. It has been long since a two-leg came here. _Its leaves waved gently. The tree-speech it used sounded strange, rolling and silent and strong. It sounded like _a-lalla-rumbo-est-ana-rollo-ballo-bum-nema-son-oren-balla, _and that was only a small sample. I do not know how long we stood there talking, days or hours, weeks or minutes. The tree's voice was wise and mine felt so small, so small. I longed to push roots into the deep soil and grow tall, wise, strong, like the tree.

_No, that is not your path, _it tol me. _Speak with the Shepherd. Go in peace, little Entling._

Entling. The tree knew my name. We broke apart and the tree waved its branches in a soft farewell.

_Namarie, _came the whisper of a green voice on the wind. 

I walked on, picking up a handful of dirt and smelling it. It smelled of my garden- carrots, peas, spinach, tomatoes, and the sweat of days spent on my knees weeding and coaxing shoots from the ground. It gave me a burst of energy, and I began to sing, a strange song that I had never heard. It came to me as though I was making it up, yet it felt as ancient as the forest.

_Seed to root,_

_Root to shoot,_

_Shoot to trunk,_

_trunk to leaf_

_leaf to twig_

_twig to branch_

_branch to nut and ground and CRACK!_

_Seed comes again, seed comes again._

It was a quiet song, feeling of the forest's life. The trees stirred contentedly, with a soft murmur of roots gently creaking in damp, rich soil. Behind me, I suddenly heard a rumbling voice behind me finishing the song.

_Seed, root, shoot, trunk, leaf, twig, branch, nut, seed!_

_Seed comes again, seed comes again!_

It was a long song in tree-language, but it felt _right_, true, fine, here- a song that grew with the trees, that they knew and had lived for countless years.

"Hoom, hom. Who comes and sings the tree-song here, hoom?"

I turned. The rumbling voice came from a tall tree, a tree that walked, and had huge green-brown eyes. 

I stepped back. I'd never been frightened of any plant, but this one was different- like a great tall animal. I looked up, straight into the huge eyes- and then I wasn't frightened anymore.The eyes were full of the green of the forest and the deep brown of straight trunks, cool and reassuring. 

"Hoom, hom. You have the eyes of an ent."

An Ent. Entling? 

"What's an Ent?"

"Hoom. Most that come here know us, and not many do, hoom, Ents. Ents. We are the shepherds of the trees, hoom."

_Talk to the shepherd._

"You sing the tree-song of old...yet you are young, hoom, and not of the Ents."

My hand, unknowingly, went to the green stone at my throat. The Ent reached out and touched it gently with a slender twig-finger. His huge eyes widened.

"You are of the God-blood, little Entling," he rumbled. "None other could wear the sap of Telperion and live untouched."

Entling. Entling. Entling.

"But-but I am a human!"

"Are you? Well, hoom, you feel like an Entling."

I smiled slightly, unsure. I reached out and touched the Ent softly. 

I felt old, old memories- thousands of trees grown from acorn to huge, towering behemoths, withering to skeletons, falling. I saw great sadness, the Entwives' leaving, the Ents weeping tears like rain in the spring, I saw the golden fields of the Entwives and the tall woods of the Ents.

"Hoom! You did not come here by chance, little Entling. There is a reason, hoom, a hasty one, though I do not know it."

He looked at me hard. "Sleep, Entling."

The Ent handed me a bowl of a green-smelling liquid. I drank it quickly, feeling the _green_ spread through my veins and cover me from head to toe. I felt energized, and tired at the same time. I walked over to a small, shady corner of the forest and slept.

  
  



	4. Chapter Three: Dreams, And A Quest

Disclaimer: All the world's a stage. And I own nothing. Hah! (Random Bard Quote; I'm sick. Screw You!)  
  
A/N: Sorry this took so long; I've been ill, and various other reasons too complicated to explain. Thanks to all you wonderful reviewers!!!  
  
Chapter Three: Dreams, And A Quest  
  
When the cold of winter comes,  
  
Starless night will cover day  
  
In the veiling of the sun  
  
We will walk in bitter rain  
  
But in dreams  
  
I can hear your name  
  
And in dreams,  
  
We will meet again  
  
When the seas and mountains fall  
  
And we come to end of days  
  
In the dark I hear a call  
  
Calling me there  
  
I will go there  
  
And back again  
  
I dreamed of golden fields and green seasons long and plentiful. Then, a great white light came into my dream, soft and gentle, yet too dazzling to look at directly. Out of the light came a soft voice, musical and low, echoing with the wisdom of a thousand ages, full of tender joy, like a summer wind.  
  
Daughter.  
  
Was this dream-voice an echo of my mother, lost so long ago? My heart leaped at the sound of the musical tenderness. It struck a cord in my heart, resonant with long-lost memory.  
  
Mother?  
  
My voice sounded small, hesitant, weak, after the ageless music of- my mother's.  
  
A tall woman stepped out of the light, hair golden as flax, dressed in a long white robe whose sleeves trailed the ground. She reached out and touched my cheek, and I smelled the gentle fragrance of a thousand flowers. The mother I had been waiting for all of my life, and here she was in all her glory.  
  
Long have I desired this day, she told me softly, voice rising and falling with the music of a thousand rippling boughs. You have grown tall and strong.  
  
In my heart a new feeling awoke, regret for all the years I never had her as a mother, and anger that she had deserted me. I turned away. My mother strode up to me and touched my shoulder, a warm tear sliding down her smooth cheek.  
  
I could not take you with me, she murmured, her voice low and comforting. The children of such unions-she smiled wryly-must make their choice themselves. Much pain awaits you, daughter, and a hard choice. Your quest is to find what has been lost, and choose your path. Perhaps our paths will meet again…someday. Look for me in dreams!  
  
The vision of my mother began to fade. Desperately I ran forward, clutching at the air, trying to keep my mother from leaving again.  
  
I awoke, soaked in my own sobs. The tears began to subside, and the sun began to come up over the trees.  
  
Find the lost, came a dream-echo carried on the morning wind.  
  
I remembered, suddenly, a moment of touch, and the memory of Entwives, leaving, leaving, lost.  
  
And I knew my quest.  
  
The Ent, coming up beside me, handed me a draught. I drank it.  
  
"I have found the reason I came," I told him. "And it is not chance."  
  
Picking up a length of rowan laying on the ground, I set out over the fields in search of the lost- and in search of the choice that would bring back my mother. 


	5. Chapter Four: Walking, More Walking, A M...

Disclaimer: I own only the three people I care about most on this earth: Me, Myself, and I. And Entling.  
  
A/N: What do you think of the story so far??? Tell me!!!  
  
Chapter Four: Walking, More Walking, And A Meeting  
  
I walked, and walked, and walked. By the day's end I was weary and footsore, bemoaning my foolhardy decision to leave the peace of the forest and its cool shade. The merciless sun beat down on me, leaving my skin nearly black and aching. I sat down under a convenient tree, whose branches generously gave me a supper of fruit after a little persuasion. Exhausted, I fell asleep.  
  
No dreams came to trouble me, and I awoke to a bright and sunny morning. I managed to stand on my sore and aching legs, picked up my rowan stick, and began to walk again. The bright sun, blue sky, and green grass managed to cheer me up a bit, and I began to walk faster, even dance a little. The air smelled fresh and sharp, and I began to whistle softly. It was an old tune, but I liked it. I began to sing.  
  
The road goes ever on and on,  
  
Far from the place that was my home,  
  
I'll follow 'till my strength is gone,  
  
My legs will find a place to roam  
  
Running over fields of green  
  
Until the coming of a new day  
  
And whither then? I cannot say!  
  
I kept walking. Soon the sun came up directly overhead and began to make me feel hot and tired. My feet stubbornly refused to leave the ground after awhile, forcing me to flop down by a stream at the side of the road. I drank deeply- the water was cool and refreshing. I fell asleep for a short time, unaware of the eyes that watched me from the wooded patch nearby.  
  
I awoke later in the day, contented and refreshed. The sun had ceased its merciless beating and had sensibly retreated behind a cloud, leaving a cool and gentle day behind it. I rose and stretched- even my legs felt fine, if a bit sore.  
  
"It is odd to find such a traveler, all alone in the wilderness," came a voice from behind a stately ash. Out stepped a tall, weathered young man, who, though young, looked wise and strong (and handsome!). I stepped back slightly- trees I understood, but I had had only one contact to other humans for my entire life, and I wasn't sure how to act.  
  
"No need to be frightened," he told me, amused. "I watched your slumber. But please, tell me why you are here."  
  
Summoning up my courage, I said, "I could ask the same of you, though I will not. I do not know that it is yours to know."  
  
"You do not wish to tell me, then. May I walk with you? It would not be wise for a young girl to walk these lands unprotected."  
  
I had to consider the wisdom of this. In my haste to fulfill my quest, I had neglected to consider the dangers of travel, which could have cost me much. However, I did not know anything about this stranger except that his voice was wise and kind, and he was handsome. I weighed the dangers in my mind- my neighbor had told me about Wargs and orcs, and other such perils that lay in wait for solitary travelers such as myself.  
  
"Very well," I said reluctantly, and we set out.  
  
A/N: Sorry for the shortness- I am not good at writing long chapters!!! 


	6. Chapter Five: A Talk In The Rain

Disclaimer: LotR isn't mine, or the characters, or anything. *cries*  
  
A/N: Well, I've been sick, and I looked over this again and realized how helpless I am with dialogue. So I changed it. I hope it's better.  
  
Chapter Five: A Talk In The Rain  
  
The man appeared to be as hardy a traveler as I. We walked swiftly, though an occasional tree would let down a vine to entangle me if it wanted to chat- I had to be quite firm with a particularly stubborn elm that wouldn't let go. The man's reaction was to lift a quizzical eyebrow and open his mouth as though he wished to ask me something, then shut it again.  
  
The day, which had started out mild and pleasant, if a bit humid, quickly changed, becoming cold and gray. The thunderclouds gathered threateningly on the horizon, like the angry brow of some sky-giant. Rain hung in the air, a specter's tapestry. In the distance, a grove of trees offered some shelter from the storm brewing. A light pattering rain began, forewarning the coming torrent. We ran for the cover of the trees, keen to avoid a soaking.  
  
What had appeared to be a small grove of trees from the distance was a forest, wide as the eye could see. By the time we reached the trees, we were soaked to the bone and laughing about it. We tumbled into the grove. The ground was damp and mossy, soft and green. We sat, wiping our streaming eyes and grinning at each other.  
  
Stately ashes surrounded us, slender white towers that rose above our heads, covered with moss. Small raindrops filtered through their leaves, landing softly on a nose, an ear, a leg. I looked at the man.  
  
"Perhaps this is the time to speak of ourselves," he said softly. He had a nice voice, a gentle baritone with a lilt that did not match his wet, rough exterior.  
  
"Perhaps," I told him, "but you first."  
  
It was his turn to grin. "I suppose that, in all fairness, I should offer myself to go first. What do you wish to know?"  
  
"Your name, perhaps."  
  
His expression changed. He looked down at his hands.  
  
"Eldarion, son of Aragorn," he said softly, a tinge of bitterness entering his voice. "Heir of Gondor."  
  
"Heir of Gondor?"  
  
"Yes...I am a prince. I wander far to forget it...It is difficult to be trapped in a palace. I begin to feel as a caged cat, unable to move. Sometimes I only wish for someone I can talk to.someone I can trust. Gondor has risen proud under the reign of my father, and I can only hope that his son will be as noble a man as he."  
  
I knew what it was to wish for someone to talk to. I had grown up alone, in a small cabin, in a rough, rocky land, raised by a kindly neighbor who had taken me in.  
  
"Right strange it was,' my neighbor had said, 'Many a year ago. Ye were naught but a baby. A tall woman came to me in me in me dreams. Right beautiful, she was. Yavanna, she said her name was. Said she had summat for me- 'A burden,' she says, 'that naught but the kindest heart could carry. Treat her well! Her name is Entling," an' 'ands me a baby and a funny green stone. In the morning, there you were!" He always looked at me with a smile when he said this, though I'd asked him to tell it to me countless times. I could remember his grizzled face by heart. He'd died when I was barely able to fend for myself. I'd learned fast, and the plants had helped- there hadn't been enough time to cry.  
  
A solitary tear made its way down my cheek. I brushed it away hastily and forced my voice to be steady.  
  
"Well, I never knew my parents," I said. "I was raised far from here, in a rocky land, by an old farmer. He died when I was but a child. I lived alone, until not long ago; the earth heaved, and I found myself in a forest far from my home. I spoke with the Ents, and then I dreamed of a woman who told me my quest. I set off, and began to walk and found you."  
  
He smiled, and a tremor filled my heart. My pulse began to quicken slightly, and each heartbeat that I stared into his eyes filled my heart with greater nameless longing.  
  
"But what is your name?" He asked, his eyes never leaving mine. I smiled at him, and then I could not bear to meet his gaze for a moment longer. I turned slightly away and opened my mouth to speak. But suddenly, something made me turn back, and as I met his eyes I spoke.  
  
"My name is Entling." 


	7. Chapter Six: Meeting In The Forest

I awoke before dawn, the forest still grey with the early morning light; the very air an indrawn breath waiting to be exhaled.

Eldarion was yet asleep, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm I found to be strangely beautiful. His expression was of calm; asleep, he looked as though a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. 

Slowly, I stood, and walked a few paces to a clear pool of rainwater that lay untouched, reflecting the twilit sky in its blue depths.

As I cupped my hands and drank the cold clear water, I saw a face that looked back at me from the mirrored surface. It was that of a girl, young, with deep hazel eyes and long brown hair that seemed to carry within it a hint of green leaves, and branches that wove a pattern in the winds. As I watched, the water stirred with a breeze I did not feel; and the reflection wavered and changed , to a face I had seen only once before, in a dream...

Something made me turn around. Standing there was the dream-woman, my mother, her face reflecting the calm of the proud upright trees that stood erect in the silent greyness. Yet somehow, here, in the shadowed forest, she seemed smaller; yet immeasurably ageless, a straight oak in the pale light. 

"My daughter," she said, her voice sighing with the sound of leaves in the wind.

"Mother?" I asked, still hardly daring to believe it. It was a question and yet not a question ; I looked deep into those unfathomable hazel eyes and knew she was my mother. 

She smiled, and held out her hands to me. I took them, and suddenly the world spun, and melted in a haze of green light; and then it seemed that I was looking at the world through her eyes. I saw myself, a tall girl, dark-skinned, her expression one of calm peace; and in each of her eyes shone the light of a captured star, deeper than the roots of the oldest trees, a white tinge of light coloring the air around her. 

_No, _came the sighing voice of my mother, echoing in the recesses of the forest. _Look deeper. _

Something in my gaze shifted, and suddenly green fire sprang into my vision. It ran in the veins of the trees, soaking every leaf and branch. It covered the me-girl and ran through her, into her, pulsing in her heart and covering her skin. I looked down, at my mother's hands, and saw that they ran with the same green fire, but it shone almost blindingly...

_Good, _came her voice again. _Now you will be able to see with your own eyes._ She released my mind and soon I stood again in my own body, every nerve tingling with the newness of the green fire that I still saw.

My mother stood straight and tall, and seemed to grow larger, stronger, more powerful.

"I am called Yavanna, of the Valier that sit in judgement upon the hill of Tirion upon Túna; and long ago the Elves gave me the name of Kementari, the Queen of the Earth." As she spoke I seemed to see in her a tall tree, that spread its branches to the sky and its roots in the earth, that spoke with the sea and the wind as its roots touched every growing thing in Arda; in every whisper of its leaves spoke the voices of all life, from the tallest redwood to the secret things growing in the mould.

"Your father's name was Bregalad Quickbeam, of the people of the Onodrim- you know them as the Ents. Long ago I asked a boon of my brother Manwe; his favor was to let the trees defend themselves, and thus the Shepherds were born. But your father had some strength about him; I knew that when I saw him walking lonely in his dream." She paused, and seemed to look away beyond years, into a dream that had passed long ago. "And I could not resist him, not for one night; I did not expect you to be born. I know not even why Eru Illuvatar has seen fit to give me life from the womb; and yet I should not be surprised, for I am the Bearer of Fruit. But you- you have captured part of my heart, from the moment I first saw you. Yet you are neither Valar nor Ent; indeed, when I saw you with your companion I wondered if Atani blood runs in your veins. But the sap of Telperion is not mistaken; you too can be a Goddess, if you choose to be. And yet the blood of Middle-Earth runs through you; you take joy in this land. Aman, I think, is too much a place of reflection for you; at least, not yet. There will be time. I wait, as I have waited for long Ages..."

"But what of my Quest?" I asked, surprised. She had sent me on my way, and now she seemed to have forgotten about it completely.

"The memories of the Valar are not so short as that," said my mother, a small smile on her lips. "In this quest lies your destiny. This task is yours to perform; but remember, nothing is without price. And to bring back such great beauty to this land may exact one you are not willing to pay."

"What must I do?"

"You have set a course to the West. The Entwives lie in the empty lands of Ei'ryn- thought to be but a barren waste. You must travel south and west, towards the Gap of Rohan, and pass the mountains by the Westfold...more I cannot say. It is in your hands now, and the hands of your companion." Again the small smile reached her lips. "I think that your companion was not chosen by chance; and that I am right in saying that in him, too, your destiny lies. Let your heart be your guide, Entling. I will not come to you again until I deem you ready for your choice." She leaned over and kissed me gently on the forehead, light and cool as a green leaf fluttering to the ground, and then she was gone, leaving no traces of herself in the silent forest.

I walked slowly back to Eldarion, my mind a tumult of thoughts and questions. The sun began to rise, and I watched its first rays pour over Eldarion's sleeping face, I knew the truth of my mother's words.

__

In him, too, your destiny lies.


	8. Chapter Eight: A Gift With Plants

Disclaimer: I own Entling. Nothing else *despair*.

A/N: This chapter is mainly exposition and 'character development', such as it is. I'm a pretty pathetic writer when it comes to dialogue, actually. And anything else. But please be kind. I'm only seventeen, and pretty new to the writing game...

Also, I just want to say that this chapter is for you, Woman of the Dunedain, and Pennhothwen. Thanks for supporting me. I'm going through a pretty hard time, self-esteem wise, and it's nice to know you're appreciated ;-) I tried to hurry this along for you, even though I'm mad busy lately...

And, of course, to my lovely lovely beta-reader...PENNHOTHWEN! My everlasting gratitude and deepest love forever :-)

                Eldarion awoke as the sun rose over the treetops, staining them a deep emerald as the golden rays poured over the earth, warming it; as I watched him, I felt as though something had happened that morning beyond sight, for I could _feel_ the contentment of the trees as they soaked in the sun, feel the grass pushing its way through the earth, feel the day lilies open their faces to the sky. 

                And then I looked down at Eldarion, and suddenly these thoughts were driven from my mind. He stretched, disheveled from sleep, and stood with the fluid, boneless movements of a cat. My heart gave a half-painful flutter, and I wondered why he had such a hold upon me.

                "We have traveled many leagues, in fewer days," Eldarion told me, his dark eyes level with mine. "Truly, you walk with the stride of the Onodrim you were named for! Indeed, sore pressed have I been to keep beside you. But this is your quest, lady; where do we go now?"

                I looked west, towards the mountains; but suddenly, in a flash, a vision came to me: a vision of an endless sea, crashing ever with a melancholy music, the memory of ancient song played on horns of white shell...

                I collected myself with difficulty, and turned back to Eldarion. "We will head west, over the Gap of Rohan, towards the Sea."

                "To the lands of the Ei'ryn? Those, I have heard tell, are but barren waste...but you guide me. I am naught but your protector."

                We set off west, our pace slow and measured as the tides I had imagined for that perplexing moment. 

                "Eldarion..." I ventured, unsure why I even felt compelled to ask. "Why did you...why did you decided to accompany me on my quest?"

                He looked at me, his face unreadable, his eyes wide and dark. "In truth, Entling, I am unsure," he admitted. "But I can remember one thing: I dreamed, the night before I met you. I dreamed of a tall woman, her beauty surpassing all I had ever seen, even surpassing that of my mother; and she is talked of all across the lands as the most beautiful Middle-Earth has ever seen. And the woman spoke long to me, of a quest I was to help with; much of it is lost to my memory now, and perhaps it was merely the stuff of dreams. Yet it compelled me, and I remember she spoke to me of her daughter, whom I would meet soon enough. And I ask you, Entling: was she your mother?"

                "Yes," I told him. "She is my mother, though she abandoned me long ago...even now she visits me of a time, in my dreams only." I did not want to tell him of the meeting I had had with my mother only a few hours before, nor what she had mentioned about him. 

                He looked at me as though he expected more, but when none was forthcoming he turned away again. We walked long in silence before he turned to me again, and it seemed his eyes were overbright.

                "Speak truth to me, Entling. Where does your quest take us, and what do we seek?"

                And then it seemed a voice spoke in my head, echoing from a time long past. _I will call her Entling. Entling for the hope and the burden she will bear, Entling for the chance of return._  
            "Know you of the tale of the Entwives?"

                "The Lost Ones? Aye."

                "It is my task to seek them."

                He started back, staring as if at one mad. "But they have been lost for years beyond number! Why not go to seek the Valar beyond the Sea, or the Great Jewels? It seems to me that there is as much chance of finding them!"

                I watched him calmly, meeting his gaze. "Think you that Eldarion son of Aragorn is the only one who acts upon his dreams? There is a reason I was called Entling!"

                He looked down, as if unsure what to say to that. My heart softened slightly, and I reached out my hand to his. "I know not why I was chosen for this task; but this is my fate, and I must follow it wherever I may. I have dreamed that the Lost Ones lie beyond the Mountains, and so I will follow my dreams. I was once taught that nothing happens by chance, and I believe it to be so."

                "It was not chance I was chosen to be your companion..." he said, his voice strange. I looked into his face, but I could not read his expression.

                _I am beginning to find humans baffling,_ I thought. 

                _As do we- it is true, Tree-Child, _came a voice unwanted in my head. I looked up hurriedly, only to find the willow before me was shaking its branches smugly. I sighed, and shook my head. _Can I have no peace, even within the confines of my mind? _

                _No, Thalionornwen, _came the voice again. _That is not your fate. _

Thalionornwen...? I seemed to have more names than I had known.

                "Entling? Are you...all right?" Eldarion asked, sounding concerned. 

                "Yes," I said distractedly. "The tree..."

                "What of these trees? They seem to talk to you, and it is by their fruit that you live! I understand not what sorcery is this. Are you a Shepherd of Trees, then, sent in human form to torment me? You are like to nothing I have knowledge of, save for something my father spoke of once, about the Lady of the Golden Wood."

                "I have a gift, with trees, and plants; we understand each other. I know not of the Lady of the Golden Wood, but I do know that to speak with plants is as natural for me as to speak with you."

                He sighed. "There is much I do not understand about you, Entling. But there is much about myself that I do not understand as well. I know little enough, indeed; sometimes I fear my father has chosen an unworthy successor."

                "Not unworthy, Eldarion. Never unworthy."I smiled at him, and he took my hand. Silently we continued our journey, and yet the silence seemed to speak louder than a thousand empty words...


	9. Chapter Nine: Even As Mine

  Disclaimer: …I'm definitely not as good as Tolkien…and who would *buy* this anyway?

A/N: OK, so I'm as bad at romance as I am at dialogue. What do you want with me?? I'm doing the best I can…P ;-)   
NINE CHAPTERS! WAHOOOO! ^.^ NINENINENINENINENINE!!!! Review!!!!!

And the romance begins…get ready for a sickly sweet chapter. And…REVIEW!!!

Chapter Nine: Even As Mine 

            After many hours of walking, the earth began to change, becoming rockier and hillier, more like to my homeland. The sun beat down upon us, and I began to tire. Eldarion's pace had slowed as well, and ahead of us lay a large field of grass, with a small creek bubbling through it. There was a thicket of blackberries growing by the stream, and after a few pricks it conceded some fruit, albeit reluctantly.

            I sat by Eldarion, my hands full of the sweet sharp-tasting fruit. He took out a small packet of thin, light wafers. At my curious look, he smiled. 

            "'Tis _lembas,_ the waybread of the Elves," he said, replying to my unspoken question, "and better travel fare I have yet to find."

            I smiled back at him and replied, "Perhaps. But I would rather partake in such gifts as the trees give- at least until we reach the barren wastes. Then, I might yet repent, and ask more of your supplies than you would wish!"

            He laughed, a deep, pleasant sound, then looked thoughtful. 

            "It was the gift of my mother…she is the only Elf left in Middle-earth now. I miss her, sometimes. She is beautiful, and good, the best Queen Middle-earth has seen since the days of Elendil, I think…soon I will need to choose a queen, for my father's scepter will grace my hand." His eyes were strangely bright as he looked at me. "My father saved Minas Tirith in the days of Darkness; he is the Healer, the one who holds Andúril the Sword that was Broken and is Reforged in one hand and the _athelas _kingsfoil in the other, with the star on his brow. He is loved as no other man, nor other ruler, by me no less than any- for I love him, as my father and as my King, the Man and the Elfstone; and I- I am not worthy to stand in his shadow! Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better to have parents who are less than stars out of legend, proud King and Queen the likes of which have not been seen since the days of Númenor!"

            In his eyes was a terrible sadness and a longing that I had never seen before.

            "Still, you are fortunate, more than you know- to have been raised by parents who love you and know you for who you are," I countered, for I had pain as well, and sometimes it seemed that my heart was afire with it.

            His face softened, and he looked at me with a rather different expression in his eyes. 

            "It seems a terrible thing indeed, not to know your parents," he agreed. "Yet your mother is wise, and beautiful beyond measure. Know you even her name?"

            This was a question I had been dreading. I had known Eldarion for but a short time, yet in some part of me I loved him already; but I did not know if he loved me, nor how he would react if he knew that I was half of the Valar, that he knew only as legend!

            I sighed, resigning myself to telling him; let fate do as it will.

            "My mother's name is Yavanna, called Kementari, of the Valar that wait beyond the Sundering Seas…"

            I shut my eyes and rested my head in my hands, wondering what he would do. I heard a sharp intake of breath. 

            Then a gentle hand drew my face up, and Eldarion looked into my eyes, so intense it frightened me. He took my shaking hands in his own, and with a hand that shook slightly, he traced a line down my cheek.

            "But you are flesh and blood, even as I am," he said, his voice tremulous with a trace of fear, and guarded excitement. "And your hands are even as my hands." So slowly I felt that time stood still for us in the silent field, the only sound the distant rushing of the brook, he drew a gentle finger over my closed eyes. "Your eyes see the same as mine do." Then he slid his finger down gently, so gently, until it reached my lips, and there it stopped. "And your lips…your lips are even as mine." He leaned forward, towards me, and kissed me; in his mouth I could taste blackberries, and a light, sweet flavor beyond my knowledge. I closed my eyes; the touch of his tongue on mine awakened a hunger I had never known. 

            There was a beauty in the touch of his lips on mine, and he moved his arms about me. Stars burst against my closed lids. And then I knew the pain of Arwen Undomiel, and the agony of choice that was her fate, and mine…

A/N: HAHAHAH! THEY KISSED!!! *frenetic happy dance* NINE CHAPTERS!!! …heh heh heh…nine chapters…heh heh heh…


	10. Chapter Ten: Night

Chapter Ten: Night  
  
We broke apart, and Eldarion's face, happy, breathless, filled me with a sudden hunger that ached fiercely in my breast. I leaned forward and kissed him, hard; and the touch of his lips was a s a flame that burned me without pain, only a scalding heat that filled me until I felt afire with it.   
And then, before I knew what happened, my clothes were on the ground, and I was bare to the moonlit warmth of the night; it was a full moon. Eldarion's skin was smooth and dark, and mine was as dark as his. Our bare skin blended into the earth of the night, surrounded by the darkness and the pale silver of the moon's glow.   
For a moment, he looked into my eyes and smiled, and then, his movements long and slow, he moved over me and the woods resounded with my moans against the silence.  
On a tide of joy and heat and pleasure, our moans mingling and blending as our bodies did the same, I tangled my fingers in his hair and felt myself let go into the deepest of pleasure pain, joy and fierce fire coursing through my veins.   
Finally, empty, the tide of fire subsided and he collapsed against me, his head on my breast.  
Sighing, I stroked his hair with a trembling hand. He looked up into my eyes for a long, long moment, and then slid up and brought his mouth to mine in a deep, sweet kiss. I closed my eyes and felt a fluttering kiss on each of them, and heard a deep, happy sigh.  
"Good night, Entling."  
  
A/N: How's that? ^.^ Sex. Don't flame me!!!!!!!   



	11. Chapter Eleven: Talk

A/N: This chapter is nearly all due to excessive help and hand-holding by the amazing Margit, and of course the intrinsically fascinating Pennhothwen ;-P 

Disclaimer: Not mine, fools!

(The Short) Chapter Eleven: Talk

I awoke, my arms still around Eldarion, and his around mine. He was already awake, staring at me with a strange expression on his face.

"What are you thinking?" I asked, curious. A thought came to my mind: there was much about him I did not know, and would like to. 

"I was thinking...that it has only been a short while since we met, and that I have never felt this way about anyone before, nor done...anything like this," he replied, blushing slightly.

"It _has _been a short time. And I have never known anyone besides you and the man who raised me! But I feel no different about you for it...something in my heart tells me that you are to me what I am to you."

"Is it really something in your heart? For I know that you are of the Valar, and I think that the woman that visited me in my dream was one...tell me, has she spoken of me, to you?"

I swallowed, hesitating. "She told me...she told me that we were destined. That it was right that I had found you."

"Then my heart has not spoken wrongly," he said, and sighed in relief. "Entling..."

"Yes?"

"I found you outside Fangorn, traveling West. Yet the only place that fits your description is the Ered-Nimrais, that we travel to! Where are you from?" 

"I know not...somewhere hilly, and rocky. The trees were tough and strong. There was an earthquake, and I found myself in...Fangorn, if that is what your people call the big forest. I spoke to an Ent, and learned of my quest. I think that it was no mere chance you happened upon me."

There was a pause, rich in contemplation. I could not read his eyes until he lifted them to me. There was confusion there, but also something that spoke to my heart, something that stirred within me with a lifting sensation.

"And you know nothing of where you come from? That is strange to me. I know most of the history of my city; my father has taught me much, and I have studied with the Steward Faramir..."

"I know a little of your city; the man who raised me spoke much of Gondor. I think he was once of your city- though he did not speak as you do."

"It is beautiful, the White City. Someday, I would that you could see it."

A pang, inexplicable, went through my heart as he said this.

"Why did you leave your city? It seems to me that having parents is a gift, and gifts are not things to be thrown aside lightly." I spoke from memory, something the man who raised me had said once when I asked about my green stone.

"I am a Ranger, Entling. My father wandered for many years before he became King,  
and made a name for himself in the lands of Middle-Earth. If I am to succeed him, can I do less?" 

He said this with great gravity, so I felt I had to believe him. However, I could not keep myself from wondering what it meant to be a Ranger. For from his words to me it seemed to be a fate with a burden heavier than any I had known before, as it meant to wander far and away, knowing neither home nor roots. For the Ents had the trees to their company who talked to them, but a Ranger had none of this. 

"Why is it so important to make a name for yourself? And why must you wander to do it?"   


"To be a King, I must know my people. I cannot learn kingship by sitting in a palace- nay, I must learn by seeing what there is to see, learning what there is to know. There is more to Gondor than Minas Tirith only," he explained patiently.   


"What have you seen? There is much that I would know! My roots lie in one place only, yet you seem to have none, and I have seen so little! Tell me everything."

Something in his eyes glinted. "To tell you all that I know would take long," he said softly, 

"for I have traveled for long years."

"I have time," I assured him.

A/N: That's the end of the chapter. I thought it implied a longer conversation, and I'm not quite skilled and/or knowledgeable enough to put in the conversation…I actually thought it was a decent place to stop :-P


	12. Chapter Twelve: Changes

/N: Whoa, that took a long time...WOOT! ANOTHER CHAPTER!  
Disclaimer: Disclaimers...are like boxes of chocolates. You only get them on special occasions. Like when I update. WOOT! Yeah, yeah, it's not mine.  
  
Chapter Twelve: Changes  
  
"And after I spent a few months in Harad, I fell in with a spice caravan heading towards Rohan," Eldarion whispered in my ear. I smiled softly and put my arms around him, and he buried his face in my hair.   
I moved my head to look up into his face. He shifted his gaze to my eyes for a moment, then leaned in for a sweet, slow kiss; it was hard to believe, for me, that only yesterday- was it yesterday? I had never been kissed…  
I drew back and leaned against his chest, simply lying there, letting a wave of contentment wash over me. He shifted as though uncomfortable, disturbed. I sat up, feeling oddly slighted, and drew my cloak about me tightly. Eldarion sat up behind me and sighed, ruffling my hair with the force of his breath.  
"Entling, I…I fear that I have corrupted you. You- you are so young, and beautiful, and I moved too fast. It was not respectful of you- to take you here, like this. I should have waited, but…" He reached out a hand, tentatively, and drew a hand over my cheek. "You- your kiss was as a flame to light my heart."  
I sighed. "Eldarion…you were- are- the first man I have ever known. I know little of the customs of marriage and-" I blushed, looking down. "And love, of coupling as we did." I took his hand, feeling helpless against his doubt and utterly forlorn. "I love you, Eldarion. Is that not enough?"   
"You say you love me, but-" he sighed explosively- "you are young, you are innocent. I am not the best man in the world, nor the kindest, nor the handsomest. I fear that you have fallen in love because you knew no better, and that is not true love."  
I drew my cloak about me tighter, protectively.   
"I am no common, foolish girl, Eldarion. Forget not that I am of the Valar, at least in part."  
"I have not forgotten, Entling; indeed, it has much occupied my mind. I thought that the wisdom of the Valar would guide you, in your decisions. In choosing me." He took my hand. "I will not lie to you, Entling. I come to you as no virgin. But my heart…" he brought my hand, encased in his own, to his chest, where his heart lay. I could feel it beating. "Remained un-given, until I met you."   
"Then- what troubles you? I gave you my-" I looked down. "My maidenhood, and with it, my heart. I assure you, neither were given lightly."   
He sighed again. "You know so little of the world's ways, Entling. I only meant to be your guide. I did not intend for this to happen."  
"No one can plan their heart's direction, Eldarion. Do not be saddened or worried on my behalf. My decision was swift, but it still stands- I worry not that I have chosen ill."  
"You chose me to love, but…you are immortal, Entling. My mother-"  
"Arwen Undomiel," I interrupted. "She gave her immortality to your father…"  
"Would you make that choice for me, Entling? My mother lived many thousands of years in Middle-Earth before she made her choice. She knew the ways of the world, the ways of the Eldar, and yet still she chose him. You know so little…I fear that you would choose too hastily."   
"I do not know so little as all that, Eldarion; you would treat me as a child, when I am a woman grown, as you acknowledged last night! Would you treat me as a common whore, beneath you in all but the matters of the bedroom?"   
"I would never treat you as such, Entling- you have the first place in my heart now- all I ask is that you consider before you give over something that you cannot return! I would not wish for you to live with me in torment, wishing always that you had chosen differently!"   
"I love you, Eldarion! I love you! Do you not return the affection?"   
"It is- I- Entling…" He trailed off, looking upset.  
I stood up abruptly, and, unthinking, ran- hard and fast, too fast for Eldarion to catch up to, too fast for my feet to touch the ground. I cried as I ran, the tears stinging harshly against my skin, salt in my wounded pride.   
_I had given him a declaration of my love, and all he had given in return was silence…_  
I ran blindly, not knowing where I went. Before I could react I had tripped over a rock and fallen headfirst into the ground; I lay on my back, my breath hard and labored, staring unseeing at the sky. My heart pounded faster than the beating of a thousand hooves, and I remembered the feeling of Eldarion's heart beating beneath my touch. I closed my eyes, the tears forcing their way out, and heard a distant rumble- thunder.   
The rain began to fall, gently at first, resolving itself into a torrential downpour. I opened my eyes- it was twilight, and the rain fell mockingly, washing the tears away from my eyes. I cried more to replace them.   
The ground turned to mud and I got to my feet. I began running again, lurching a little.  
The ground betrayed me and I fell again into the mud, black dirt mingling with salty tears as I sobbed. An oak tree, nearby, shook sad drops from its leaves and hunkered down to face the storm; I beat my fists against the ground in helpless fury.   
The world turned chaotically, and a peal of thunder sounded, heralding the streak of white light that seared from the sky, demolishing the poor oak. I screamed in agony, once, before the world went black against the backs of my eyelids.   



	13. Chapter Thirteen: A Question Answered

Chapter Thirteen: A Question Answered  
  
I was bundled in cloth, and I heard the crackle of a fire and the  
  
sound of a sword being sharpened.  
  
I opened my eyes, startled, and tried to move my arms. They seemed to be  
  
fastened to my sides. Panicked, I struggled wildly, barely noticing the  
  
fact that I was in a dank cave; it was only after a few moments that I  
  
noticed Eldarion seated by the fire, sharpening his sword.  
  
I attempted to speak, but all that came out was a feeble croak. It was  
  
enough to bring Eldarion to his feet with a start, sword up.  
  
"Eldarion?" I managed weakly. His gazed snapped to me, and I was  
  
startled by the fear in his eyes. Realizing that it was I who had  
  
made the noise, he relaxed, letting his sword drop.  
  
"I found you lying in the mud, unconscious, shivering for all you were  
  
worth," he told me, sitting down again. "There were bandits, a gang of  
  
them. They would have-" He looked down. I could guess the rest, and after  
  
a few moments of effort I struggled out of my cocoon.  
  
"Thank you, I muttered, embarrassed, as I sat up.  
  
"'Twas nothing more than the duty of a Ranger," he replied.  
  
I turned away, hurt, and fixed my eyes on a trickle dripping from the  
  
cave's ceiling so as not to cry again.  
  
I felt his hand on my shoulder and turned, looking up at him.  
  
"Why- why did you run from me, Entling? You frightened me- you almost  
  
died, or worse. I cannot guide you if you are beyond my aid!"  
  
I sucked in a breath, my anger returning despite knowledge of his good  
  
intentions.  
  
"You overestimate yourself, son of Aragorn. My guide is not my father,  
  
nor has he any control over my deeds." I tossed my head, flipping my hair  
  
over my shoulder. "We are travel companions, nothing more, and for your  
  
help I thank you."  
  
"And that night?"  
  
"A mistake, nothing more." I could not look at him. "You said the  
  
same." My voice was bitter; I knew his eyes were hurt.  
  
"Is that how you feel- truly, Entling?"  
  
I made my voice icy, ignoring the crack in his voice, the expression in his  
  
eyes.  
  
"I told you of how I felt. You did not return my affections, and so I  
  
withdrew them."  
  
He gasped slightly. "No, you are mistaken, I did not mean-"  
  
I turned away, feeling tears prick at my eyes. "It matters not."  
  
His voice was angry. "The affections of a Prince of Gondor are not to be  
  
trifled with!"  
  
That made me turn around, angered anew by his hubris. "And neither are  
  
the affections of a Vala's daughter!"  
  
He was effectively subdued by this. "You said you loved me once," he  
  
said.  
  
"You questioned my love," I replied.  
  
"Forgive me?" He hated himself for asking my forgiveness, I could see  
  
it in his eyes; it was a wound to his pride.  
  
"I did not lie when I said I loved you. I gave my heart and you rejected  
  
it; why should I forgive you?" My pride had been wounded as well, and it  
  
would not heal so swiftly.  
  
He turned away slightly, his breath catching on the lump in his throat.  
  
I sighed, for it seemed that my love, along with the night I had given it, must be consigned only to tears,  
  
and eventual forgetfulness. How could I face the journey ahead alone?  
  
He reached out, suddenly, and clasped my hand, his movements abrupt, almost  
  
desperate- seeming. I met his gaze, seeing the pleading there, and the  
  
tears that had welled up; he was too proud to release them.  
  
"Because I love you, Entling." 


	14. Chapter Fourteen: White Mountains and Wh...

A/N: Yay! An update! So you startlingly spiffy reviewers may be forced to push that little button and make me happy :-)

Disclaimer: Ain't mine, ain't even Billy Joe Bob's. Damn.

Entling

By Thalia Weaver

Chapter Fourteen: White Mountains and White Missiles

We kissed again, almost frantic, joyful, passionate.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he muttered to my lips, my cheeks, my neck, between kisses. 

"I know," I answered, and caught his face between my hands, drawing him down for a longer kiss. I was still unused to the mingling of our mouths, and so it was with a twinge of unease that I explored within his mouth with my tongue. A tingle shot up my back; I pushed in farther, exploring, and noticed that it tasted of honey. 

He let out a soft moan and encircled me tightly with his arms, leaning in again for a deeper, slower kiss. He let me go, and I pulled him down to the pile of blankets, continuing to kiss him.

* * *

Morning found me in Eldarion's arms, a contented smile spreading over my face as the sunlight filtered in. 

He awoke before me, and I opened my eyes to find Eldarion, smiling happily, stroking my hair absentmindedly. 

I shook free of his grasp and sat up, grinning. He laughed gently. "You have soft hair."

I nodded mock-seriously. "I have yet to find the quality of your hair, Eldarion. 'Tis, of course, an important thing to know."  
He shook his head at me, grinning in turn. "We had best set out; we've a long day before us."

After I gathered my gear, storing it in the extra pack Eldarion had given me, we began to walk, and I put voice to the question that had been forming in my mind since the night before.

"How did you bring me to the cave?" I asked.

"_Not _easily," he answered, a rueful smile touching his lips. "You were surrounded by five bandits."

"Well?" 

"The trees helped, some. I do not think the bandits have yet recovered from the shock of being tripped by tree roots and choked by vines! Thank the-" He glanced sidelong at me, and something in his eyes flickered. "-Thank Eru I was fighting for you. Luckily, I knew of this cave, and it was not far."

I nodded, and we lapsed into momentary silence.

"Entling?"

"Aye?"

"You are not…full Vala, are you?"

"Nay. My mother was Yavanna Kementari…I never knew my father."

"Yavanna Kementari?" He whistled. "But…why then do you live here, in Middle-Earth? Do not the Valar live beyond the Sundering Seas?"

I shrugged. "I am not party to the decisions of my mother, and certainly not my father. I think, perhaps, that this quest is the reason I have been exiled from the Blessed Lands. I have bent much thought upon it." 

He looked thoughtfully at me. "I never thought that I would live to fulfill such a destiny," he said softly. "That I would walk with a creature out of legend."

I smiled at him. "Eldarion…for an Age the line of Isildur lay in secret, and the Kings faded into legend. And here you are, son of the King. The Elves…they have left Middle-Earth, and already are vanishing into fireside tales and the dim recollections of ones who are dying-" I swallowed, remembering the kind old man who had raised me as his own, and died too soon. "Dying, or already dead. You are a creature out of legend yourself."

He smiled back at me, despite himself. "Still…I have sworn oaths by the Valar, and never thought I would walk beside one."

"You did not seem to have any objections last night," I remarked teasingly.

He laughed delightedly. "Vala or no, I believe I like this side of you!"

* * *

Hours passed as we walked steadily, Eldarion keeping me amused with anecdotes of his travels. In turn, I told him some of the stories my surrogate father had put me to sleep with every night in our hut. 

Sooner than I would have imagined, the White Mountains loomed close upon the horizon; it would be a long trek upwards. Dusk had fallen by the time we reached the mountain's base; the mountain awaited us in the morning, but the night held promise of other, less precarious occupations. 

Morning rose cold and clear, and my spirits soared high as the mountain's peak. The trail, however, was stony and rough, and I stumbled more than once. However, the pace Eldarion set was swift, and he was never lax in aiding me. Swifter than I believed possible, we had left the temperate mountain bottom and climbed to higher, colder places. The path kept climbing, and I felt a small pang as we left the tree-line. Seeing the expression on my face, Eldarion squeezed my hand gently and brought it to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on it. I smiled gratefully.

Another bend in the road passed, and suddenly the ground was coved in a deep layer of white. I knelt to examine it more closely- for, while not unheard of, snow was a rare phenomenon in Gondor, and I had seen it but once in all my years. 

Suddenly, a white missile flew into my back. I squeaked at the sudden cold, and heard Eldarion's mocking laughter from behind me. I shook my head, grinning, and formed my own ball of cold snow, lobbing it at him in one smooth motion and crowing as it hit him in the chest.

"Coward!" I yelled. "Fight fair!"  
"I did!" He hollered in answer. "All's fair in-"

"Love and war!" I finished the old maxim for him and hurled the snowball I had been forming at him. He ducked, and sent a snowball at me before I could dodge. 

"This is war, Prince of Gondor!"

The air was soon thick with flying snow.

A long barrage later, I stood blowing on my aching, red, hands. 

__

Would that I had gloves, I thought ruefully, then noticed the silence of the clearing.

"Eldarion?" I called, walking forward. 

"Victory is miiine!" A familiar voice called, and I found myself sprawled on the snow, with more of the white powder being rubbed into my hair by a flushed, grinning Eldarion.

I rolled atop him and kissed him soundly, gathering snow in my other hand. He reached up for another kiss…

…and was rewarded with a faceful of snow for his efforts. I leapt up before he had time to react, and danced for my victory, laughing loud and long.

Eldarion, jumping nimbly to his feet, attempted a running tackle, but I sidestepped him and crowed as he sprawled on the ground.

Leaping up again, though not quite so swiftly this time, he roared, "You, maiden, owe me a kiss!"

I laughed tauntingly. "Ai, my gallant pursuer- come and take it!"

We chased each other in circles about the snow, our shrieks and laughter echoing for miles about. 

"You've led me a merry chase," Eldarion said finally, having pinned me down to the ground. "And you are certainly prettier than any boar or deer I've ever hunted, though none have proved quite so elusive."

I gave a strangled squeak- he was sitting atop me, straddling my stomach, and he was cutting off my air.

He rolled off, helping me up.

"Truce?"

"Truce."

"I'll claim that kiss now…"

* * *

Many hours later, night fell cold and sharp on the mountain, and I huddled shivering within my bedroll, Eldarion lying in his next to me. He rolled over and tugged at my coverings questioningly, and I shook my head.

"Nay, not tonight. 'Tis too cold, and I am yet weary from the afternoon's exertions."

He grinned. "You, milady, are becoming quite the kisser."

I grinned in return. "Certainly not for lack of practice."

Indeed, ever since our fight, Eldarion seemed bent upon expressing his affection for me in as many ways as he could think of- most of which involved his lips and tongue. In fact, the night before, he had taught me some…other uses for the tongue, a most enjoyable learning experience.

"Are you sure you do not wish to…?"  
I nodded, and he shrugged. "I suppose we shall have to postpone our next…" He coughed. "…learning session…until tomorrow."

Smiling to myself at the euphemism, I nestled into my bedroll again, and shivered. The night was truly cold, and a chill wind seemed to blow through my bones.

Eldarion tapped me lightly on the blanket, and gestured to his own bedroll. I let out my breath in an exasperated sigh. 

"I told you, I do not wish to-"

He shook his head, looking faintly amused at my impatience. "Nay, that is not my intent this time. I offer only such warmth as the nearness of my flesh can provide."

I let out a relieved breath, and nodded eagerly, for his bedroll looked indeed inviting. Taking a deep breath, I flung my covers off and scampered hastily over the frozen ground and into Eldarion's warm embrace. 

"You should be proud of yourself," I whispered to him, stifling a yawn.

"Why?" He asked, curious.

"'Tis not every day that one throws snowballs at a Vala. Well, half a Vala, anyway."

He chuckled sleepily and ruffled my hair. "Sleep, Entling."

He swiftly followed his own advice and was soon snoring gently, a lock of hair falling into his eyes. I smoothed it back softly, being careful not to wake him, and smiled, remembering our conversation of that morning. His hair was soft as gossamer silk.


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Mandos

Entling

By Thalia Weaver

Chapter 15: Mandos

The Ered-Nimrais retreated ever farther into the distance, their white tops still visible from afar, topped by the gold crown of daylight. Eldarion walked quickly beside me, our mirth of the previous days having vanished, to be replaced with a grave foreboding. I did not dream, those nights, only tossed and turned, my mind filled with dark thoughts of some nameless shadow whose threatening presence seemed to lurk just beyond the horizon.

The vegetation began to thin three days after we left the mountain. Within a week, only the occasional desiccated tree or shrub still grew: the rest was a desert of strange, scorched earth that carried no memory of plant nor root; it smelled of foul things I did not wish to wonder about. There was something wrong with the land, something dire- a darkness that ran in the veins of the earth, stopping up the green life. The earth was cold beneath my feet, and I felt that cold seeping through me and into me. 

Slowly, as we moved on, I felt myself weakening: every step that brought me into contact with the withering earth-that-was-not-earth sapped my strength, until finally, only a fortnight from the place I had touched Eldarion's hair in the peaceful coldness of the night, I collapsed. 

"Entling!" Eldarion cried, lifting me to my feet with the worried expression I had seen him wearing often in the past weeks. "What happened?"

I felt my breath come shallow in my breast, and waited until I could muster up the strength to speak. "Nothing- it is nothing-"

But we both knew the lie, and I sank down again, too exhausted and frozen even to cry. I knew that to rise once more, to go on, would be beyond my strength. 

"It is not nothing- tell me what is wrong, tell me, _tell me _so I may heal you-" his voice was frantic, cracking like a boy's.

"You, the son of a healer," I murmured, looking at him from behind lowered lids, too tired to keep them open anymore. "You do not recognize dying when you see it? Tell me you do not feel the death that shadows this land…"

And then I was too weak to go on, and closed my eyes, welcoming that final darkness at last.

* * * 

The corridor was long- so very, very long…I ran and ran, barely noticing that above me starlight shone, that the walls seemed to contain the moonlight- only searching and searching-

__

*Who are you, that you cause such a disturbance here?*

I turned and caught sight of an impossibly tall figure, and two eyes like bright diamonds. His voice was like the shimmer of stars in my mind.

__

Please, I must find him, I must find him- do not make me stay here, I beg you-

*Yavanna's daughter? Yavanna's daughter here, in the Halls of Mandos…*

There was a faintly amused edge to his voice. 

__

*Now, who do you seek so urgently?*

Eldarion, I cried in anguish. I would never see him again- never- never-

__

*Such agony,* he said, and seemed to pause in grave thought. *_But you can never become mortal. Not you, Redeemer of the Shepherds…*_

I want only to see him again-

*Very well. But perhaps you will not wish the same if ever we meet again, Yavanna's daughter…few may pass through these Halls unchanged.*

He touched a cool hand to my forehead, something unreadable shining in his bright eyes. 

__

*Sleep now, and wake in his arms…*

* * *

I felt light- as though I had been flying…

* * * 

My nose was wet. 

I blinked, my eyelids heavy. My nose was wet; indeed my entire face was wet with tears- but not my own-

I opened my eyes. There, a few inches from my face, a red-eyed Eldarion was leaning over me, my head in his lap. His face was full of some measureless sorrow- I felt my throat constrict, looking at him. My sweet Eldarion…

He looked closer at me, and saw that my eyes were open. 

"Entling?" he asked, softly, his expression that of one who barely dared hope. 

"Eldarion," I said, and leaned up, kissing him hard. It lasted a long time, leaning into him, feeling his tears on my face. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and touched my face as though he could barely believe I was really there…

"Entling," he said faintly, gazing at me as though quite unsure whether to laugh or cry. "You are back."


	16. Chapter Sixteen: The Valley

Entling-- Chapter 16: The Valley  
  
  
"Yes, I am back," I told him, and kissed him gently on the nose.   
  
"But you were dead," he said, and his sweet brow furrowed and he held me at arm's length. "You were dead, Entling."  
  
"I came back."   
  
He did not speak again, only looked at me, and something behind his eyes flickered like a door closing at the end of a long hall.   
  
* * *   
  
We continued our journey the next morning. Eldarion kept staring at me, long, hard gazes, as though to drink me in with his eyes. He barely dared touch me at all, as thought afraid I might disappear. 

We had left the desert behind-- or nearly. I did not look back. After a long time of walking, there began to be grass-- short, stunted, brown grass, that reminded me of the trees at home. They soughed beneath my feet, and whispered in jagged, tough voices. As we walked, it grew thicker-- now a carpet of longer stems, but still…tainted. I felt a pressing on my head, as a band of steel behind my eyes. 

"They are in pain, Eldarion," I told him, kneeling and touching a stem. "They have been blighted by something terrible…I do not know what curse, but it has near withered their roots."

"And yet they grow," he said, softly as though to himself. "They have such strength…"

"Have you never seen moss grow between barren rock, Eldarion?" I replied, still cupping the blade of grass. "Have you never seen trees grow where the soil is so dry it raises dust when you walk? Have you never seen how tall an oak may grow if you let it rise?" I stood and stared past him, imagining my mother in the distance-- a tree, whose roots grew into the deeps of the earth and whose branches held the very firmament of sky…

"Entling?" His voice was as an anchor, calling me back to earth. His eyes were wide. "You…what happened?" 

"I…" I looked at my hands, feeling green fire flicker and fade at the edges of my vision. "I do not know, Eldarion…" 

And I looked at him, hoping he would hold me in his arms for this moment. He did not meet my eyes. 

* * * 

On the fifth day after my return there was a tree. It was a small one, a sapling, but it was there-- and its leaves were green and full. There was no shadow nor blight in any branch, and the sough of wind between its leaves carried no trace of cursed distress, nor smell of smoke. 

__

Where are all the rest-- the trees, the flowers? I asked it, silently, standing in the carpet of grass and feeling the tree's rough bark. 

__

They were here long ago, it replied, and it sounded lonely, and forlorn. _And then they were gone, and I grew after long years had passed…there was much sorrow here. _

Grow in peace, I told it, softly, and pressed my cheek against the trunk. _And others will join you. _

* * * 

Then there was a garden: a soft garden, lush and carpeted with starflowers. In the distance rose two mountains, high and tall. Here at last the shadow was behind us: I felt a pressure ease, and took a breath of the sweet air. But something still was amiss.

"The air," Eldarion said quietly, the first words he had spoken in hours. "It feels as though we are in water that has been still too long."

The starflowers beneath my feet waved in complacent bliss. There was a scent of myrrh on the air: here was peace, a refuge. _But what is there to hide from? _

And then I saw the distant figures walking towards us, with the long stately strides of the Ents. 

"They are here, Eldarion," I told him, and reached for his hand. 

He paused, hesitated-- and then took it, and our eyes met again. 

* * * 

__

Who are you? 

****

I am the daughter of the one who made you, the one called Kementari.

__

She has no daughter.

****

I am her daughter. 

__

Why do you come here, then, to disturb our peace? 

****

Your time here is over, Onodrim…it is your time to return. For the land is blighted and the trees long for their shepherds: and the shepherds pine for you. Too long have you spent here, never growing. 

__

We will not leave our sanctuary. 

****

Then the land will die, and never know your kind again. 

__

So mote it be.

****

Do you not care anymore? Have you spent so long in stagnant twilight that you have forgotten the feel of the sun on your faces? 

And one stepped forward, her golden hair like flax, her eyes the hazel of leafy trees. 

__

I am called Fimbrethil. She took a breath, and a soft cold breeze began to blow, ruffling the starflower and dispersing the perfume that hung over the valley like a cloud. _I have forgotten Fangorn…_

****

Remember now, Fimbrethil…

__

I remember. 

* * * 

__


End file.
